


Families: Eternally Messy

by hoars



Series: red [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Abundance of Tea, Age Gaps, Conceiving Troubles, Drinking, Epic Denial, Epic Friendships, Erotica Writers, F/M, Family Disputes, Inherited Sense of Humor, M/M, Magic, Mpreg, Nesting, Nonconforming Parental Gender Roles, families, houses, parents having sex, silliness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-24
Updated: 2013-04-24
Packaged: 2017-12-09 07:50:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/771798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hoars/pseuds/hoars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The third installment to the bride hunting fic that now involves pregnancy then babies, adult looking responsibilities, epic fails and proof no one picks their family.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Families: Eternally Messy

The aftermath of the current year's Festival of Red was tame and mild compared to the festival five years ago. There hadn't been a festival quite like it. Understandable since Enforcers didn't typically want to attend festivals, no matter how politely they were asked. Most werewolves happily found their mate within the first three years, and most magical persons  were usually aware of their magical status beforehand.

The only event slightly interesting to the residents of Beacon Hills, the gossip queens they were, was the alpha-heir finally Catching a mate. Her Chase was rather straightforward as Chases go, unlike her brother's or uncle's. (If everyone ignored the fact she caught his scent while she was driving with Derek and Stiles to visit one of the neighboring packs and immediately abandoned her brother and his mate in the middle of nowhere while she drove towards mate-scent. She liked to pretend it didn’t happen that way, but fortunately she had two witness who remembered the long walk back to Beacon Hills and loved to tell the story whenever asked.)

Her mate was a rather young man, but that was okay with Laura. She came to accept the fact most Hales were genetically predisposed towards age gaps. She liked her husband and mate's shy and somewhat mischievous demeanor. He was the type to prank the entire family and watch wide eye as everyone blamed her younger sisters. For the most part, Isaac was easy going and their life together was mild and tame. Her brother and uncle caused enough entertainment with their mates, so she was more than glad to remain in the audience. Hell, that entire year of unions that infamous festival produced was more entertainment than she could find on TV. A statement in regards to either current television shows or the people she watched avidly.

For example, there was the Argent-McCalls. The woman, Allison, had been working on an English degree before she dropped out instead of taking over the family business as the new leader of the Enforcers. She co-wrote a romance series with Stiles instead.

"It's porn. Filthy porn." Jackson said flatly.

"I prefer calling it tasteful erotica." Allison sniffed back.

"Or we could call them what they are. _Romance_ novels." Stiles argued.

"You call what you two write romance?" Lydia asked curiously.

"It's a love story with character development sex. What else would it be?" Stiles asked. “Porn is _porn_.”

"Suddenly I know way more about your issues than I wanted to." Jackson said.

"This fascinating." Lydia said. "No wonder you and Derek get along so well."

Stiles continued to stare at her blankly; Allison crowed in victory. “I think there’s people in this room who are dysfunctional and I am not one of them.” Stiles informed the room. “For once.”

Going into college, Allison had known she didn't want to be an Enforcer like her parents. It involved frequent moving and generally killing members of a species she was fond of. She had continued her archery, mostly to have a sport in college and to have something to do, but she didn't feel passionate enough about it to take it to the Olympic level like her coach kept begging her to. It wasn’t until her sophomore year and she was required to take an anger management class -- the residents of Beacon Hills can go straight to hell if they think they can get away with being cruel to people she loved and frankly, Matt was lucky she got to him before Derek did -- and she's forced to undergo a creative writing class when she realized, yes, this was _it._ Writing is what she wants to do forever.

She crammed out her first novel, but despite Scott's promises to read it and tell her what he thought, he never got around to it. Which was okay. Scott wasn't much of a reader. But Stiles had.

And he left red marks and red notes all through the margins and text and gave it back to her with a sheepish shrug. "Sorry. Class has sort of rewired my brain." And the end result is brilliant and  so amazing and the birth of a supernatural romance series by A. McCall that takes the bestseller's list by storm. Allison had been stunned by the reception of her Enforcer/werewolf series and with months of begging and sad eyes aimed at Stiles, her Spark/werewolf series.

"I might as well join the crazy." Stiles had muttered before caving and describing his lessons extensively.

And with a little convincing from Danny, they had a website and independent publishing company in the works.

"Our real names can never be attached to this." Allison says in horror five minutes after the website goes live. "Our parents will die from the shame of knowing their children are kinky shits."

"Us?" Stiles says, his tone matching hers. "They'll kill Derek and Scott for corrupting us. Our dads have guns, Allison! They know how to use them and use them well!"

While Allison made the decision to drop out to dedicate all her time to her books, Stiles worked hard to juggle all factions of his life. He had school to complete, his Spark apprentice project to finish and the writing business he helped found. Needless to say, Allison had more free time than he did to think about things. Like how she was financially stable and a working from home woman.

Which is how Allison and Scott come to the decision to try for a baby.

A year later, they were still trying.

Jackson dedicated most of his free time to the peewee sports league and his daughter while Danny developed websites for the technological inept. It was slightly strange to see Jackson coach a team of five year olds to victory, especially as most of them were barely taller than his knee. Stiles has been to nearly every game of peewee lacrosse and soccer and it is _brutal_. Jackson was probably a Spartan leader in another life with how his four to six year olds cream the other teams.

Stiles and Derek were eventually faced with no choice but to buy a house the summer after Stiles’ junior year of college. It begins with Derek sleeping restlessly and waking Stiles up with his constant moving. Derek also develops an inability to look John in the eye around the same time. It takes Stiles a sleepwalking morning, stumbling into his dad's bathroom for a clean towel to meet the reason why.

A woman reason why who pulls back the shower curtain to smirk and speak to Stiles and holy shit, that's the Alpha from Monterey Bay. Stiles about faces and scurries back to bed.

He ducks under the covers and Derek's arm. "We should probably move." He whispers.

Derek's utter relief makes Stiles freak out a little because it means disturbing things have been occurring and for the first time since their festival day, Derek and Stiles only cuddle for comfort for a week. The Alpha from Monterrey Bay has taken their knowing as permission to be vocal. Loudly vocal. At least Derek and Strikes were somewhat quiet. And attempted to muffle sounds. Except for that one time but that was only once!

The house they finally decide on is the middle point between the Hale home and the Stilinski home in the suburbs. There's a red living room, blue kitchen, yellow office, purple master bedroom and a green guestroom with two orange bathrooms. A plushy pink carpet was laid throughout the house. There was a sunroom and a yard small enough a Chihuahua wouldn't get lost. The front yard had a rose jungle intent on eating the neighbors that really need to be trimmed before something tragic occurs. They had every intention of fixing the house to their likes and dislikes, and yet nearly a year later, Stiles is in his senior year, working on his Spark journeyman completion and eighth book to edit, and everything is still pretty much the same.

Except now they have neighbors of the dastardly sort. Namely, Danny and Jackson who moved to the neighborhood for the preschool and daycare nestled there. They lived across the street in a house with sensible wall colors and neat rows of tulips in the front. Stiles frequently comforts the roses and badmouths the tulips.

Jackson and Danny -- they mark the beginning of the whole insane mess. Allison and Stiles are innocently on a brainstorming walk outside because she'd been two twitches from beating Stiles with a pillow until he cried. They walked pass their house and saw the small family playing in the front yard. Danny helping Rosalie play soccer while Jackson opposed her, and Allison sighed.

A sound full of longing and made Danny look up and give her a sad smile and it all made Stiles' insides quiver.

No one says anything until they are half way through the chapter, "So? Babies?" Stiles broaches.

"Just one." Allison agrees, guiltily. "Or three."

"I'm sure Scott would like one too." Stiles says slowly but so awkwardly. "Just? Talk? Talk to him about it?"

Allison dazzles him with a smile and thankfully never brings his awkward attempt again. But that wasn't the end.

Stiles hears from Scott all the sad and horrific details on how they were having troubles conceiving. The lack of results making Allison withdrawn and sad around the eyes, like she was tired of trying.

"At first it was fun." Scott says sadly. "But now I don't know what to do except maybe kidnap one of the kids from that daycare to give to her."

"Don't do that." Stiles says because sometimes bad ideas need to be shot down even when they were made in jest or else they'd fester into seemingly good ideas. Stiles mentally dubbed the months leading to his senior year spring break the Dark Ages.

Not only was it Allison on his mind, but school, his project, his competition with Lydia, Derek... Thankfully, Stiles was exceptionally gifted with the ability to multitask, "Like a good wife." Lydia smirked. "Give it up, Stiles. I'm going to be first in class."

"Running scared already Lydia? I think you’re a little late on the sabotage." Stiles snarked back at her.

His journeyman status was coming to an end and soon his name would be added to the national list for every supernatural being to see that marked him capable of handling their problems. He had to create and present his project to the bureaucrats in early May. Finals were at the end of May. His and Allison's deadline was the middle of May. Stiles was very slowly losing his mind. If he could just finish his journeyman project and present it and be declared a master, everything would be better. He held on to that certainty with more hope than it deserved.

Allison and Derek get along the more Allison and Scott didn't. Something that frequently amused Stiles and distressed him because Derek's and Allison's idea of play and stress relief was playing target practice while bitching about Scott. The amount of times Stiles has seen Derek rip an arrow out of his shoulder like it was a splinter was enough to make Stiles crave truck loads of bubble wrap.

The job to rally Scott often fell to Stiles as a result. "Dude, you two have been in love for years. She isn't going to leave you because you can't deliver a baby on the spot. "

"But people do get divorced and separated because of it." Scott moans. "It's a possibility."

So Stiles does what Stiles does.

He researches the hell out of how to conceive babies. "Did you know saliva kills sperm?" Stiles asks.

"What?" Scott asks blankly.

"Her spit is killing your little werewolves."

“You mean no more-?”

“Exactly,” Stiles nods sagely. “Also, you should consider walking around in your boxers. Cool your baby making factory down a little.”

Until the day happens, Scott bursting through the front door and stopping in his tracks to sniff the air, "Did you guys just have sex?"

"Shut up. You're the one who came in without knocking." Stiles huffs. "Besides sex is proven to help relieve stress. I'm being _healthy_."

"But in the living room?" Scott asks.

"Why not?" Stiles shrugs.

Scott takes a moment to think about it. Why not indeed? He’d have to mention it to Allison. Their living room rarely saw action. Their bedroom and kitchen, sure. But Allison refused to have sex on the couch she made her parents sit on when they came over. Scott thought it’d make having them over easier to bear. He’d even settle with her. The living room floor worked just as well.

"I need a sandwich if I have to listen to him." Derek says to Stiles and buttons his jeans and goes to the kitchen.

"I assume there's a reason you're here?" Stiles asks after watching Derek leave the room. Scott is a little queasy watching his friend leer so hard. Compared to Stiles, Scott felt like nun. "Or maybe you just missed me?"

"Allison's pregnant!" Scott bursts. "I can finally smell it on her and she took the tests and the doctor confirmed it!" Scott beams, excited and happy for the first time since their troubles started.

"That's great, Scott." Stiles says, turning to smile at Scott.

It is great, wonderful even. He'd been getting tired of Allison and Scott tip toeing around each other and being sad. They were his family and therefore deserved every manner of happiness. A more quiet Allison shyly confirms it. "It's just, early to be telling people you know?" She confides to Stiles. "What if something happens? Or it's all in my head and my doctor is just going along with it because Scott and I scare him?"

"Allison, I am positive, completely sure you are pregnant and your baby will be born completely health." Stiles says firmly. "So don't worry."

Silently, he didn't tell her he'd accept anything less than a happily born baby in nine months and believed in it very hard. Scott and Allison had a little get together to celebrate the good news and Scott's cooking gave Stiles food poisoning. Scott's and Derek's werewolf iron stomachs probably saved them and Allison had decided to stick to the salad after a deep inhale made her run for the kitchen sink.

“Is this any way to treat a childhood friend, you asshole?” Stiles could be heard saying the next morning. “You poison them?!”

Derek made himself useful by staying away from an increasingly cranky Stiles because 1) sick and 2) it was the end of April and May was bringing the shitstorm. Stiles kept Derek on his guard at all times, since he didn't know if he was coming home to his loving, insane mate or his homicidal, insane mate.

Scott's inability to cook brought misery to their home as Stiles became increasingly sensitive to different smells. Derek was ready to push that Stiles see a doctor, so he could relearn how to keep his food down, but was first derailed by Allison's scent.

She had reached the three month marker, making her more relaxed and her scent more prominent. As frequent as she was to their house and how often she and Stiles were sitting on top of each other, her scent everywhere. It wasn't until he was visiting Stiles at his school that Derek begins to rethink Allison is why he's smelt someone, well, pregnant.

"Stiles..." Derek starts, uncertainly.

His mate should know if he was pregnant (Stiles knew everything or did in very short order, it was a personality facet Derek had come to expect) and it wasn't like they were trying and Derek did not want to be the one to break the news to Stiles, especially if he was unaware. Derek did not like that at all. "Have you that maybe you might be...?"

Stiles stares at him blankly and then takes a few steps back from Derek's embrace. "No." Stiles says firmly. "I am not pregnant and I refuse to be pregnant until after May. So I'm not pregnant." Derek stares, more than a little uncertain now. Stiles was lying. He knew he was lying and hadn't told  Derek.

Derek was confused.

"Okay." He says dubiously.

Stiles nods, gives Derek the stink eye and steps right back into their previous position and activity of Stiles bemoaning his Spark project. Contrary to Stiles' claims, Derek was beginning to understand his mate knew he was pregnant but was deep in denial until his work load was finished. Stiles let Derek arrange doctor's appointments, he took the prenatal vitamins Derek set out every morning, and he lightened his gym routine. But when Scott beamed his congratulations, "Dude, whatever you're on, you're doing too much. I'm not with child. That's your wife." Stiles said, making Scott frown in hurt confusion.

“Is this because I gave you food poisoning last month?” Scott asks. “Because I said sorry! A lot!”

Derek couldn't quite contain his smirk at Scott's increasing distress. His parents were another matter and frequently gave Derek and Stiles concerned side glances. It wasn't whatever they were thinking. Stiles and Derek only had one argument so bad that Derek and Stiles refused to share the same breathing air and Derek gone to his mom’s to sleep on her couch.

Even then, it had only been for four hours before a cranky Stiles called Derek at three a.m. and demanded Derek come home. And since Derek had been wide awake thinking of increasingly insane plans to sneak back into their bedroom and bed, why not?

Derek did his best and worked around Stiles' willful obliviousness.

If Stiles was tiring and getting worn out, obviously the nap was really for Derek. If Stiles was irrationally upset, obviously it was Derek's fault for breathing. If Stiles had an increased appetite, obviously Derek made too much food anyways so why not eat it all? If Stiles got sick in the mornings, well, that one they both blamed on Scott. Stiles handled Derek's attentive attention gracefully, not commenting when Derek followed him around or put his head in his lap, ear suspiciously close to Stiles' growing abdomen.

Weight gain was only expected, okay? Derek was feeding him small five meals a day and with his lightened workout, the pounds were gleefully sticking. The obvious confusion around everyone only lasted until Stiles finished his last exam, running around his neighborhood and yelling, "Balderdash!"

"Is it a stomach tumor?" Scott asks. "Is that why you won't tell anyone? Is it a parasite? You can tell me! I promise not to freak out! I’m here for you, dude!"

"Dude, where have you been? I'm with child. Expecting. Carrying werewolf seed." Stiles gives Scott a strange look. "How could you not notice? Derek's known for weeks. I thought werewolves could smell that shit. Maybe you’re a bad werewolf?"

Scott looked ready to cry and Derek can't help his grin, even when Allison elbows him hard.

The news spreads like wildfire and the ultrasound Stiles refused to acknowledge exist even happened – “This is a normal check up. Nothing weird is happening. No one is lifting up your shirt and putting cold gel on your stomach. Nope.” His face tilted towards the ceiling the entire time as the doctor checked to make sure organs were where they were supposed to be -- and Derek couldn't figure out what the doctor was showing him. It wasn’t like he could ask with Stiles in the same room, humming loudly every time the doctor tried to say anything but, “Everything looks good!”

Derek demands a redo and Stiles agrees easily enough, “Like I would miss the first ultrasound. I think that’s actually the first step in being a bad parent.”

Derek rolls his eyes but kisses his mate on the forehead. “Right. The first one.”

"I think I may have been abducted by aliens." Stiles says thoughtfully, looking at the picture. "There is no other explanation for an Alien tadpole to be inside me. There should be like a puppy. No, a _wolf cub_."

"You aren't funny." Derek glares.

"Oh all mammals look like this in the first few months. So they do sort of look like puppies." The technician says smiling along with Stiles. Derek has a moment to wonder if the technician is messing with them before the smile slips off her face and panic sets in. "Didn't Dr. Shepherd tell you? That you're expecting twins?"

"No. He didn't." Derek says flatly and Stiles looks two seconds from hiding in bed for the rest of his life.

Allison and Stiles didn't conceive at the same time.

Allison is two months and a half ahead, but a stranger wouldn't know it unless they asked. Both of them were around the same weight. A touchy subject all around. Allison forever glum her favorite outfits no longer fit and Stiles huddling in Derek's one hoodie. Whenever anyone timidly asked if Stiles had thought about paternity wear, Stiles turned to them with watery eyes and statistics about the fatality rates of twins, the likeliness of miscarriage and premature birth. Allison at this point needed an anger management refresher and would hiss at the offender.

It took Lydia and a reluctant Jackson to strong arm Allison and Stiles into the car and to the town over with a wide maternity and paternity clothes selection.

"I'm just going to get bigger." Stiles says darkly after staring at the price tags. "I should just buy XXL clothes. I'll probably use those again when I'm forty."

"No you won't." Allison disagrees. "You're too kinky for that."

"I'm going over there." Jackson announces, his eye twitching. "Call me back when we aren't talking about Stilinski and sex."

"He's lying. And nosy. He wants to hear all about it." Lydia smirks. "But while he's browsing and denying he wants to have another baby because he's emotionally stunted, we'll get Allison settled."

Pregnancy has done bizarre things to Allison. She used to write love stories with a strong female lead that was usually kicking ass and taking names with a male lead that sweet and understanding of his partner's badassery instead of feeling emasculated. An eleven year old girl could have made the connection between the leads and Scott and Allison. Now, Allison wrote about vengeful female leads and their flying monkeys. Stiles was genuinely afraid for Scott's safety. While he took the time to think on Allison's angry hormones, Stiles hid in the dressing room. He pondered many things about life. Like why did Derek have to be so fit and trim? If Derek had been _voluptuous_ or at least had something going around the middle other than muscle, Stiles wouldn't need to buy new clothes. In fact, Stiles would just wear his wolfy's and be done with it.

It was enough to make him want to cry and Jackson had to have one of the dressing room attendants open the door because Stiles was having a moment to be absolutely terrified of the fact he was pregnant with twins and he was going to be someone's dad. Two someones!

"Damn it. You couldn't have waited to have your freak out when Derek was around?" Jackson grumbles.

What proceeded was the most confusing five minutes of Stiles' life, including the hand charade conversation he had with his dad about why he needed to move out _last week_ , where Jackson tries to comfort Stiles and mostly succeeds in convincing Stiles either a) Jackson was body snatched or b) he wasn't in his original reality anymore. Jackson growls a little when Stiles voices these thoughts.

"I just know how it feels, okay? Your body isn't yours anymore and everything is changing and every one acts like you're just baby transport and public domain." Jackson scowls.

"We don't do this." Stiles says. "But thanks. I think."

Jackson looks ready to argue but nods. "For a good reason. Just talk to Derek. Danny, he was good for me." Jackson helps Stiles off the floor. "And when you want to watch _Teen Mom_? I am there."

Jackson wouldn't be Jackson if he didn't get his daily amount of bullying in and force Stiles to try clothes on with the power of his bitch face and Lydia's arched eyebrow. The shopping trip brought joy to Allison and for a month, she was like her old self. And then part two of the Dark Ages occurs.

The details were fuzzy, Allison tight lipped and furious like frost burn and Scott pale and silent, forever shaking his head when interrogated. Derek was pretty sure Allison had moved in. Her scent was so tangled with Stiles, he's had to rely on his eyes more oft than his nose to tell them apart.

There had been some near misses where Derek was able to disguise affection intended for Stiles into a brotherly hug. Derek feared after this, he'd have no choice but to hug the woman hello and goodbye. It wasn't until he was crawling into bed, dead on his feet with his eyes already closed that he realizes whatever happened between Allison and Scott, it needs to be fixed.

Quick _ly_.

He can hear the tapping of fingers on a tablet and the whisper of pages as a book is read. Stiles is brilliant at many things. He constantly awes and scares Derek with what he can do on a biweekly basis. But Derek doubts even _his_ mate has four hands. He peeks an eye open and there's Stiles. Face serious, highlighter in hand as he highlights passages of a baby book, tongue sticking out slightly. Derek braces himself and turns his head to look at his other side. Allison with her tablet, eyes and mouth concentrated as she types.

Derek stares at her. He's a little unsettled but unwilling to show it, a little convinced he's dreaming. Stiles pats him on the head, a touch Derek pushes into, still staring at the woman. "It's only for a little while." Stiles says reassuringly. "She can't stand Scott right now and this was safer for him."

Derek nods slowly, too tired to deal with this strangeness. He does what hasn't failed him yet and tries ignoring the problem into going away. It's a strange week. He often wakes up with Allison's face pressed into his back and Stiles' face in the hollow of his throat. He's never woken up so sweaty and miserable before. But he deals.

Derek is nothing if not a prevailer.

He thinks it's cute how Allison and Stiles cuddle together and help each other and generally behave like pack. It's when Stiles leaves bed early one morning without Derek's knowing -- his mom is punishing him for not making her aware of impending grandmotherhood sooner, she has to be -- and he rolls over and gathers Allison tightly to himself. He has a second to wonder about the passion flower shampoo scented hair tickling his nose before he hears the squeak, "Derek?" And throws himself as far away from his human body pillow he's lucky he doesn’t leave a dent in the wall.

"Allison? Sorry. Stiles--"

"No! It's okay! Stiles warned me when he got up this morning you might try to use me as a teddy bear. Um. He went to get breakfast?"

Derek stares at her with crazy eyes. The incident opens a door of images. He likes the image of Allison and Stiles curled up, pregnant with _his_ children. That cute thought in hindsight was probably the tip of the iceberg. It wasn't an attraction to Allison. It was the want to have her in his pack and labeled his so he could take care of her and her cub. And it needed to stop.

"Scott, what the fuck did you do?" Derek demands later that day. He'll never admit it, but he's frazzled. Damn it.

Scott glares at him, nostrils flaring. No doubt smelling Allison all over him and no, Allison has always been packsister. Every since he first met her. If Derek has to throw Scott threw a few walls to prove it, he will. But what he really wants is Scott to fix things between him and Allison so Derek can sleep without being worried he's going to molest someone he shouldn't in his sleep. Or before his wolf adopts Allison's baby as his. Before both of those events occurred would be nice. "I don't have to explain it to you." Scott says.

"You really do." Derek growls. Maybe he still has crazy eyes because Scott hesitates for once in his life before saying something stupid. Of course he still says it, but he thought about not saying it which was a vital first step.

"You aren't my alpha. I don't have to listen to you." Scott says.

And that's it. Derek can put up with a lot of crazy. He's desensitized to it now. What he cannot accept, however, is Scott not accepting Derek's help when they both want the same thing. He punches Scott in the stomach and grabs him by the neck to shake him like a misbehaving cub. "Are you listening yet?" Derek asks, faux patient.

After five years together, Derek is willing to admit Stiles has a fault. A fault named Scott. No one could be perfect.

Scott moans pitifully. "No more! Motion sickness!"

"Good," Derek bares his teeth in a smile. "Now listen to me. I want to sleep with my mate again. I want to have sex with him again. And you're going to help me by fixing things with your mate. Today. Now, what's the problem?"

Scott still has that mulish set to his face and Derek sternly shakes him again to knock the look off his face. "She just -- it's not my fault!  I really do want our baby." Scott begins to mumble. "I just -- you know how it is. And I'm not jealous."

"Scott. Make sense. Now." Derek growls.

"She said I don't care about the baby and how I was jealous and how our relationship can't work out if I'm jealous of my own baby! And I'm not! I do care! Just not about diaper brands or formula and wipes. And stuff. And I don't like when people touch her and not because I'm an asshole but because she doesn't like it." Scott looks angry and sad. "And she kept saying how you cared about your babies and I asked Danny and he said no matter what, I'll always be wrong." Scott blows out air. "What am I doing wrong? I agree with her all the time!"

Derek is still stuck on the fact Allison thinks Derek is doing something right, better than her own mate and it makes him want to preen, but at the same time he's confused. Since Stiles acknowledged he was expecting, every conversation about the baby ended in a Mexican standoff and promises of cold vengeance when the other least expected it. Like the babies' room was not going to be painted yellow. Gender neutral his ass. That argument and still green walls were worth the worms he found in the coffee grounds.

"I told her we'll do whatever she wants!" Derek is starting to understand the problem, he thinks.

"You said that how many times?" Derek asks.

"All the time?" Scott says. 

"Stop doing that. She thinks you aren't interested so you don't care. Not that you're weak and easily pliable." Derek says.

He thinks of all the arguments he and Stiles have had, but also the pleased smiles and Stiles' affection when they do agree on something. His wolf is truly a ridiculous thing, rumbling in pleasure. Scott's eyes go wide. "Not a word." Derek glares. “We’re talking about you right now.”

Scott and Allison never really argued about anything before, the likeliest reason  Derek can think of as to why they're besides themselves now. He thinks deeply about how to do this with some tact, but then remembers _Scott_ and decides his plan to tell Allison Scott is whipped and his wolf considers her the higher ranked pack member is good enough.

And it works.

Allison punches Scott a few times and Scott mumbles, "I know, I'm sorry but you've been scary lately." Derek and his wolf growl, near silent but Scott hears it and casts wide eyes at Derek before facing Allison with his chin up. "But I still love you and damn it, I don't care if the baby might be a girl. Her room isn't going to be pink or purple or what the hell ever. I like dinosaurs. Everyone likes dinosaurs! They're cool and different colors. Some t-rexes so if she's badass like her mom those can be her favorite or if she's like me, the brachiosaurus can be her favorite. Or the triceratops like Stiles --"

"Scott." Derek growls because Scott is getting off track.

"Uh, right. So I put up dinosaur wallpaper in the baby's room! So there! You can't make me take it down!"

"Scott," Allison says, her voice sweeter to him than it has been in weeks.

"I mean-- I hope you like it." Derek rolls his eyes but Allison takes him back and Derek feels justified in being smug.

"That was a sweet thing you did." Stiles says later that night, Derek a naked and satisfied mess behind him.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Derek lies and presses his face against Stiles' sweaty back.

“Sure you don’t,” Stiles says drowsily. “Love you.”

Beacon Hills enjoys a peaceful two weeks and then Stiles hits his fifth month. It was a warm early September day, and the Hale/Stilinski household was polka dotted with Stiles alternating between complimenting and swearing at his baby bump in the front yard. Jackson seriously considered giving his neighbor the number to his psychiatrist.

"We do not use our powers this way, you guys! Not cool at all! Well, the house is but kids, everyone already calls this the Rainbow House. We don't need to prove them right. So put it back. Now. Or you're grounded."

"Not even out of the womb and you’ve already lost your children's respect. Impressive." Jackson taunts. "How low can you get?"

Stiles throws a dandelion at his evil neighbor that pathetically dropped several feet in front of Jackson. Stiles scowls and Jackson laughs. One of the babies kicks and Jackson's house was also polka dotted. Stiles smirks.

“Fuck you.” Jackson sulks.

“Your penis already broke Lydia. I don’t want to think what it might do to me.” Stiles counters. “I’m pretty sure Danny is magic and therefore you can’t infect him with your social impaired..ness.”

“Why are you talking about Jackson’s penis?” Derek asks from behind him.

“For reasons.” Stiles says. “That we’ll never discuss again.”

*

"Deaton, my womb is using magic and I can’t seem to access mine. Do we both see the problem?" Stiles slowly. Maybe he didn’t use small enough words the first time? Or he said it too fast Deaton hadn’t been able to understand him. Sometimes it felt like only Scott and Derek understood panicked Stiles-speak.

"Your children are using your magic to develop their own magic and pathways." Deaton explains patiently.

The baby magic didn't stop at changing the colors of walls. They also changed the windows into stained glass, freakishly tall daises in the yard, turned their roses green and blue, changed the outside of the house frequently -- Derek and Stiles often checking the house number, just in case -- and periodically moved the furniture around. Needless to say, Derek's nerves were shot to hell and Stiles spent most of his time bribing his children into changing everything back.

"They aren't even born yet." Stiles says into a pillow one late night, the living room furniture neatly stacked to the ceiling.

"Didn't this happen in _Poltergeist_?" Derek frowns, staring.

"My children are the Antichrist!" Strikes wails.

The calm ritualistic magic that only worked as long as Stiles knew what the hell he was doing and believed was no more. The twins seemed intent on proving the Spark community wrong.

"It makes sense, though. Right? The twins don't have a preconceived notion of 'possible' yet." Allison says around a spoon of Nutella. "So they just do it simply because they know they can."

"I think my life just ran away screaming from me." Stiles says after a pause. "How can I say no when anything is possible? If I tell them Santa is real, Santa Claus might actually become real." Stiles' eyes go wide. "I don't know what to do. Live as mutes in Tibet?"

"Like you could be quiet for so long." Lydia snorts delicately.

"I'm sure you’ll know what to do." Scott says helpfully. "You always know what to do."

Also during his fifth month of his pregnancy, Stiles could feel the twins moving more liberally. Often jabbing him and making him feel like a victim of _Alien_. He didn't think too much of it after Allison reassured him it was normal. And then he felt his stomach flip upside down, freaking him out -- close to hysterics -- and demanded an ultrasound to see what the hell was going on inside. It takes Stiles seconds to understand while Derek is left to aggressively ask, “What?” while Stiles and Dr. Shepherd stare at the machine. "That, Derek, is what a puppy looks in utero."

The ultrasound machine disappears and Dr. Shepherd starts freaking out. "Oh wait, it's just invisible." He sighs in relief at not having lost expensive equipment.

"I have a puppy in me!"

"One of the twins is an alpha." Derek says slowly to make sure he’s understanding the situations. “One of the twins is an _alpha_.” Derek repeats sounding too happy and stupidly proud. Stiles is going to stab him. He scowls at Derek until Derek has the sense to look mildly apologetic.

He had only been joking about having a wolf cub in him. This wasn’t cool. This was _horrifying_.

“Twins. And one is an alpha and the other a Spark.” Nate scowls. “Fuck you, Derek. Fuck you and your perfect life so hard.”

Derek smirks back at his cousin. “Good things happen to those who wait.” He taunts.

*

Derek wakes up quite suddenly and a quick glance shows it's three a.m. He reaches for Stiles and when he can't find him, sighs. Every since Sparky developed magic, Stiles sleeping a complete nice restful night was a thing of the past. Blinking the gritty hold of sleep from his eyes, he heaves to his feet to find his errant mate.

He follows his nose and blearily finds Stiles on the floor surrounded by Tupperware. Derek blinks to insure he's seeing correctly before dropping down next to him.

"Derek. Oh, hey, did I wake you?" Derek grunts in reply. "Sorry. I just remembered some of this stuff is stained and mismatched and not ours." Derek slumps and debates using Stiles as a pillow or leaning against the cupboard to sleep.

There's a list of pros and cons for each that he lazily makes before deciding what he really wanted was to sleep in their bed. Preferable with his budding family in said bed. His life was so unfair sometimes.

"Do you need help?" He asks in the interest of getting things done faster.

Stiles blinks and beams. "Yeah!"

Which is why they don't stumble back to bed until noon. Everything in the kitchen now matches, the baseboards smell faintly of lemons -- the entire kitchen did, really -- and there's slurred plans to tackle the living room next.

"Couch cushions, Derek." Stiles says. "Vacuuming needs to be done."

"It's called nesting, kid." His dad laughs when he asks. "You should have seen your mom. She was convinced we had to impress Laura or your sister would leave."

Derek looks doubtfully at the rather cluttered and messy pack home. "By the time she was pregnant with you," his dad explains following his gaze. "She was kind of hoping Laura would move out and take you with her."

"Laura would have been five." Derek says flatly.

"And that's why you guys called me mom until you were seven." His dad says. "Your mother never was very maternal."

*

Excepting the next Hale seemed to have given everyone ideas about Stiles’ person. Ideas he would love to expunge them of. Isaac is by far the nicest and always asks, keeping his hands at his aside, if he can touch Stiles and his belly. Because it's Isaac and Laura's mate, Stiles readily agrees. It's a system the other werewolves of the Hale pack catch on to quickly. It's the human half of town that knows Stiles because of his dad or through the gossip circle of grannies that barge into his space to discuss Parenting 101 with him.

More than once Derek has walked in on Stiles pleading with Sparky to please curse the town to burp slugs or be become ethereal when people with outstretched hands come near them. It was amusing the first few times. Stiles always catching Derek looking and devolving into ridiculous ploys and bizarre bribes for Sparky. It's when Stiles becomes earnest and unhappy that Derek gets a little, aggressive is a good word for it. He maybe sprains a guy's wrist when he started to reach out with intent. Maybe. Derek was hoping to crush it. He doesn’t like to allude to failures.

Stiles' mouth drops open and he apologizes while pulling Derek away from a forming crowd. His mate begins to lecture about what happened, but he's also smiling. Derek is a little confused about what Stiles expects from Derek, but for the most part the rumors of Stiles' insanely protective mate spread around town until humans refuse to even acknowledge Stiles is pregnant unless he brings it up first. Derek is no small part smug.

Because Derek is a private person in all things, including being smug, Stiles takes to telling his children of their papa wolf's virtues. He starts it off as a way to amuse himself and turn Derek ears and neck red, but when the stories turn from the time Derek and Stiles got stranded in the desert because Laura abandoned them on the side of the road to chase a delicious scent to how Derek took care of Stiles when he got pneumonia from a kelpie. His children seem to approve of his story telling and often when he's alone, he takes to talking to them. Even when he's at the grocery store and explaining why Lucky Charms may taste delicious, Cheerios were better for you unless Papa Wolf was to believed and then it was oatmeal.

"But it's okay if you guys don't like oatmeal." He consoles when they press against their fleshy prison in what felt like protest. "Papa Wolf is not a believer of breakfast. Lunch and dinner he'll be your man but before noon, we talk to daddy if we want pancakes. Oh! Blueberry pancakes! That sounds delicious, doesn’t it?

A woman and her cart steer left from him, giving him a cautious eye as she flees. He frowns at her. Some people were weird. "Oh! Watermelon! That's what we've been missing, huh guys? Now who wants to daddy to buy five them?" They press again and he nods smugly. "Damn straight you guys do."

*

"I don't understand how this is possible." Stiles says, squinting at the diagram and at the various equipment that the diagram swore would turn into a bassinet. "I'm pretty sure we don't have that piece."

Derek peers at the instructions and frowns. "I think it might be this piece?" He says uncertainly holding the piece in question.

"That's too curved." Stiles disagrees.

They both stare at the many pieces of the bassinet, the instructions one more time in hopes they've unscrambled and finally at each other.

"I could straighten it out a little bit." Derek offers flexing some muscle.

Stiles bites his lip. "Maybe we should check the box again?"

"There's only so many times you can stick your head in the box Stiles." Derek sighs. "There's no more parts. The company is just a bunch of bastards."

*

"Oh my God, Stiles!" A woman squeals.

Stiles flinches and hunches his shoulders and points to Scott. "I did nothing! He made me! It was all his idea! I'm too human and pregnant for it to be me!"

"Dude!" Scott says and pouts. "What the hell?"

"Uh, what are talking about?" The woman says tilting her head to the side in confusion.

"Nothing." Stiles says quickly. "How can I help you?"

The woman's confusion doesn't dissipate, but she moves on after an awkward pause of Stiles and Scott staring her down and not saying a word. "It's just, I heard you're pregnant?" The woman says. "I just wanted to say congratulations and see you for myself. I mean, we haven't seen each other since high school. It's Derek's, right?"

"High school?" Scott echoes dubiously. "I don't remember you from high school."

"We graduated together." The woman says dismissively.

Stiles face goes from amused to blank to uncomfortable in seconds. "Well, Stacey, whoever told I was pregnant was right." Scott nods along. "But it's not Derek's." Stiles sighs dramatically. "Scott and I decided to have a baby together." Scott continues to nod along until the words register and then he freezes. "To create a real blood link between the two of us. Derek and Allison both understand and fully support us." Stiles continues, ignoring Scott's impersonation of an ice sculpture. "We're in the middle of discussions for a polygamous relationship."

The woman, Stacey, freezes. Her hand in mid air to touch Stiles' protruding abdomen. "Poly-love makes families strong you know."

"I have somewhere else to go." Stacey says nervously.

*

"Wouldn't it be great if my son inherits Allison's intelligence?" Scott asks goofily into his drink.

"A blessing." Derek says dryly from next to him.

The bar was dark. There was a pool table in the far corner with a lamp overhead with one blinking light bulb, no tables and stools bolted down at the bar. The bar, under normal and human circumstances, would be considered inhospitable and extremely dark. The werewolves of Beacon Hills, however, saw Leto's as a safe haven. The darkness was welcoming to their eyes and allowed their eyes to relax fully. The tables and chairs were long gone after a few too many bar fights that included breaking furniture over people's backs or heads. It was also the same reason the stools were bolted down.

"Oh my god! What if my son doesn't?" Scott twitches suddenly, his drink sloshing. "What if he inherits my stupidity and he's like me and thinks it'd be a good idea to walk around smelling like animal heat musk?"

"Be a damn shame." Derek agrees.

"Or what if he _is_ like Allison and is smarter than me and makes me into his flying monkey like everyone says Stiles did when we were fourteen?"

"Allison won't have to hire you a babysitter when she goes out?" Derek suggests.

Scott ignores him, falling deeper into panic. "What if he looks like Allison and all the girls and boys won't leave him alone and he becomes a teenage father? What do I do then?" Derek rolls his eyes. "I'm going to be a horrible dad! He's going to be a single dad at sixteen and do drugs and I'm going to be raising my grandchild. We'll probably have to visit him in prison." Scott sobs. Derek looks at Scott in disbelief. "But then Allison will leave me and take our grandchild away from me and then I'll go to prison for being a bad parent."

Scott gasps. "Or what if he looks like me? And he can't get the love of his life's attention and he dies all alone all because his dad has bad genes? He'll probably kill himself and it'll be all my fault." Scott chugs his glass. "Then Allison will leave me because I'm a bad father and I'll have to take care of my kid's fifteen cats all alone." Scott starts to breathe heavily. "Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god." He repeats.

The werewolf on Scott's right stands up and moves to the other end of the bar. The bartender catches Derek's eye and gestures at Scott with his chin. "Your buddy okay there? He have too much to drink?"

Derek considers Scott and his flailing and moaning before shaking his head. "I don't think he's had enough. Just keep his glass full until he pass out."

"I'm not sure how ethical that is." The bartender says.

"I'll make sure he gets home safely." Derek promises. The bartender continues to frown. "He's going to be a dad in a few months." He shrugs. "Can you blame him?"

"Ah." The bartender says. "That explains it. Have a couple more."

*

"What should we name her?" Scott whispers over his newborn daughter’s head. The baby was squishy and red looking and Scott couldn't be more in love with the pink swaddled bundle.

"I know we agreed on Jonathan." Allison says, exhausted but smiling. "But I've been thinking about it and since she’s a girl, I’d like to name her Argent." Scott freezes and looks at his wife. “And since Argent Argent-McCall sounds weird, maybe I’d consider changing my name to Allison McCall.” Allison shrugs nonchalantly. “If you want.”

"Really? This isn't a trap?" Scott asks. "You want to name her Argent McCall and if I say yes, you'll change your name?"

"Yeah." Allison smiles. "Really.”

“ _Deal_. Where do we sign? Who do we tell to get that happening? A nurse? Nurse Rawthorne!”

“Scott, I’m pretty sure it can wait until she comes back.” Allison giggles.

“No, I don’t think it can.” Scott disagrees. “You could change your mind. I’m not taking that chance. Nurse Rawthorne! We named the baby! Hurry! Before the epidural wears off and Allison changes her mind! Nurse Hawthorne! Wait! Mom! Are you authorized to name babies?”

*

“These family dinners are terrible for my health.” Peter wheezes.

“Your own fault.” Cynthia snorts. “You aren’t exactly in the prime of your age.”

“I know you have a young wife to impress,” Remy says. “But you should leave the rough housing to the cubs.” Remy pulls out the fork lodged in Peter’s chest with a quick jerk. “Besides, I’m sure you don’t actually need to impress Lydia anymore.” He tries to console.

“They aren’t cubs anymore.” Cynthia scowls. “Derek is a husband and about to be a father. Nathan is certainly old enough to know better. Isaac is twenty-two and has better common sense than the other two. The other boys should certainly know better. You certainly should, _Peter_.”

The prong wounds left by the fork were healed by the time Cynthia helps her brother to his feet. Peter rubs his chest and stares at the mess in the dining room. The table is crushed. The food and plates were a mushy mess on the ground. He could hear the cubs that began the dining room wreckage continue outside, the jeers from the younger kids edging them on.

“I thought I was being helpful.” Peter says mildly. “You know Zack and Jeremy have been vying for the same young lady’s affections for quite some time.” He shrugs delicately and straightens his dress shirt with three bloody stains. “They weren’t being very careful of our human family members. And I doubt they considered Derek’s aggression when they decided attacking each other across the table and upending the iced tea pitcher on poor Stiles.” Peter shakes his head sadly. “And we all know were Derek leads, Nathan follows. And I doubt anyone considered the possibility young Isaac would interfere. Or that Jeremy would push Lydia into a wall.”

Remy begins to smirk. “What? What’s so funny?” Cynthia demands of her husband.

“He wasn’t trying to impress his wife.” Remy chuckles. “He lost control. A grown man lost control of his wolf like a thirteen year old boy.”

Peter narrows his eyes at his laughing sister and brother-in-law. “Maybe you should go call the young fools to heel, Cynthia. I think I hear bones breaking.”

Laughing, the alpha couple leave.

His shirt was probably ruined by the blood stains and definitely by the tiny little holes left by the fork. He was going to stab Zack and see how he liked it.

“It’s ruined.” Lydia says. “You may as well throw it away.”

Peter turns to observe his mate. “Should I?”

Lydia looked disinterested, but Peter had been involved with the woman for five years. She only appeared unaffected when she was wanted everyone around her to dismiss her emotions. He observes her carefully, looking for the little clues her body gave him to decipher what she felt. What she wanted from him. Her green eyes were flitting from the carnage, his shirt and his face. One hand was on the wall for support and her other was playing with the bow tails of her dress. A quick inhale and Peter could smell her perfume and the flux of body chemistry that never lied to him.

He smirks.

“Dearest, if you want to keep the shirt for yourself, all you have to do is say so.” Peter says. “You know I’d never deny you anything.”

“It has appeal.” Lydia says. She crosses the room and Peter doesn’t stare at the fabric of her dress swishing against her legs – that would be losing. He does listen intently to the sound and watches the tendrils of hair that escaped her bun tickle her face and shoulder. It would be a lie to say it was rare for her to be in such a disarray. Lydia was always aware of presence. Another little clue she left him. She touches his buttons, starting from the top and dragging her finger down. “We should go home. Maybe I can create a way to make it even more appealing.” She smiles sharply.

Peter bites down the laugh and kisses her bare shoulder quickly. “Meet you outside, dearest.”

He leaves his sister’s home and listens to Lydia pause for a long second before she follows, her heels clicking and crushing pieces of glass.

*

“Isaac, I know you have responsibilities as Laura’s mate.” Stiles begins. “Since you guys will be the IT couple if Cynthia and Remy ever retire to that place in France and you have to be mature and – hey! Watch where the hell you’re rolling! Person carrying Alpha Hale’s grandchildren right here!” Isaac kicks the brawling werewolves away with a quiet growl.

From somewhere in the mess of werewolves fighting Stiles can hear Derek’s growling amplify. “Derek!” Nathan whoops. “Try not choking our pack out! Cindy only wants us to incapacitate!”

“What the hell did you call me, Nathan?” Cynthia barks. “I’ll have you scouting the ice floes for the next six months if you ever call me that again!”

Stiles was quite impressed by her ability to throw a tennis ball at Nathan’s head. He was doubly impressed by Derek and Nathan restraining three of their pack mates in one move.

“If it gets us away from here.” Isaac says. “I will do anything you want.”

“Anything?” Stiles asks suspiciously.

“We’re standing less than four feet from a werewolf brawl.” Isaac says. “I think everyone would be more comfortable with you as far away as possible. In case Sparky gets ideas about helping.”

Stiles considers it for a moment. On the one hand, it would be interesting to see what Sparky thought would help his Papa Wolf in a fight. On the other hand, he couldn’t extract sweet revenge for his soaked clothes if he stayed. It was a conundrum.

One of the twins kicked, and Stiles was willing to bet it was Cub, and he immediately decided. “We should go. I’ll tell you my plan when every gossip in town can’t hear us.” Cub tended to begin kicking when he sensed everyone was focused on Spark. He was an attention greedy little thing.

“I don’t know why you both looked at me.” One of Derek sisters pouts.

Stiles had no intention of exposing Cub to this violent mess of growling and snarling. Bones were being broken in there. _No_. His werewolf offspring would use his words to solve his problems and not his fangs. Not until he was at least thirteen. Stiles didn’t know how he’d explain gentle rough housing to Cub. He cut the thought off there because Derek was busy taking care of pack business and wasn’t available to dispel Stiles’ fears of raising a werewolf baby. Stiles was human. Sparky was human. Stiles and Sparky were very breakable compared to Derek and what if Cub loved his werewolf family more?

“Don’t worry about it.” Isaac says. Stiles looks up in surprise. “Whatever it is. Things will work out. You’re good at figuring things out.”

“Huh. That’s what Scott said.”

“Scott’s a smart dude sometimes.” Isaac nods. “Now, what was your evil plan you thought would get me in trouble with the pack and Laura by committing to?”

Stiles breaks into a grin. “First, we need to hit the grocery store. We need tea. Lots of tea. So much tea that we should just buy Lipton Tea stock.”

Isaac stops and stares in disbelief. “ _Seriously_?”

Mysteriously,  every surface in Zack and Jeremy’s separate apartments were covered in loose tea leaves. Around the same time, Isaac could be found scrubbing his skin with lemon juice and rubbing  lotion on his hands while Stiles spent time cutting onions in his front yard for, “The fun of it.” It was bizarre but not as much as the three trash cans full of tea boxes and paper packs outside of Jackson’s house.

*

Seven months along, the babies’ room was put together. Derek and Stiles knew at this point to not even assume the color on the wall would stay the same if they painted it – or the color of anything else and mostly bought everything in white or black. Stiles was adamant and had Dr. Deaton backing him up that when Sparky was born everything would look like thrown up rainbows in short order.

They had the bassinets, changing table and diaper genie Scott swore by. There was the adorable toys and books the expectant grandparents brought over on what seemed like just because the sun came up that day. There was the cribs stashed in the closet full of onesies and swaddling blankets, bottles, formula and burping blankets on the shelves. By the end, Derek and Stiles were proud of themselves.

“Now we just have to master the car seats.” Stiles says, gleefully. “And I’ve been reading the manuals and Allison and Danny both said they’d make sure we’re doing it right. God, we’re going to be kick ass parents.”

“Where did the moon mobile come from?” Derek frowns.

“Our parents. I think.” Stiles says not looking up from another baby book.

“Above Spark’s crib is a magician hat mobile.” Derek continues.

“Maybe my dad.” Stiles waves vaguely. “It sounds like his sense of humor.”

“It sounds like your sense of humor.” Derek says suspiciously.

“Maybe.” Stiles says and his heart doesn’t twitch but Stiles has been involved with Derek since he was seventeen. Derek was more than aware Stiles knew loopholes around lying to werewolves. One of his most used loopholes was ‘maybe.’ Maybe could mean anything. It could mean ‘maybe my dad came by and put them up’ or it could mean ‘maybe I put them up and think it’s hysterically to blame it on my dad.’ Stiles could even mean ‘maybe aliens came down from their spaceship on their way to the intergalactic Comic Con just to put mobiles above the twins’ bassinets.’ “He is my dad. My awesome came from somewhere. Oh, hey! Do you think one of twins will develop it? That’d be so awesome! I could teach him how to play pranks and we’d like the same movies and we could gang up on Scott!”

Another tactic Stiles always tried using was that of distraction. Derek narrows his eyes and stares intently at his mate. Stiles’ neck reddens slightly and his fingers twitch. His eyes aren’t even moving anymore. They’re boring into one spot.

“Stiles.” Derek says.

“Derek.” Stiles mimics. “I’m going to the kitchen to make a snack. Want one? I’m going to get one. Carrying babies is hard work. I’m practically wasting away with how they’re leeching away my calories. I think I need cake. Possibly cookies.”

Derek watches with mild amusement while his mate struggles off the floor. Stiles giving him increasingly nasty looks as Derek fails to aid in his quest for sugar. Stiles finally huffs. “I didn’t really want any anyways.” Stiles continues to twitch as he reads and is turning the pages to look at the pictures and comics meant to keep the book interesting. Derek just has to wait him out.

“Argh! Fine! I maybe suggested to my dad that’d be a good idea and maybe I told my dad you wouldn’t be home so he could put them up.” Stiles breaks. “God, you are such a bastard.”

*

The thing everyone knows about twins, but were shy about saying out loud in case Stiles began freaking out and houses turned neon, was twins tended to be early. Like Stiles wouldn't make it to his prescribed nine months like his friends and doctor nervously swore he would. He was at a nebulous eight months feeling like a beached whale with the only desire to watch Spanish telenovelas. He was emotionally invested in _Teresa_ now. It was only a problem if it was an addiction. Which he did not have. His doctor's advice was to come to the hospital for monitoring at the earliest signs of labor Stiles felt.   
  
It is at this point Derek comes from the laundry room where he'd been starting the next load and the  folding to stare expectantly at Stiles. Stiles who decided that he'd wait until after his telenovela to start freaking out about the children his body was trying to expel like a bad breakfast burrito. They could wait thirty more minutes damn it. He was not missing which of the three men Teresa was going to love and adore just because his children couldn't wait. They made him wait for eight months. Thirty minutes would not (most likely) kill them.  
  
"Stop staring at me." Stiles says.   
  
Derek raises a pointed eyebrow. Not that his eyebrows were pointed but they spoke constant volumes on Stiles' idiocy and general behavior. Scott mused once that most, if not all of Stiles' and Derek's communication was based off body language to the stunned amazement of most of his peers. "Everyone knows three-fourths of what Stiles says is bullshit and Derek doesn't like talking." He informed his audience. "They had to figure it out somehow."   
  
Danny, sure that Scott was either duped by Stiles or just as full of shit, began an experiment that lasted near a year to measure Stiles' and Derek's body language. "He's right." Danny said in stunned belief at a Sunday 'we aren't the inter Hale pack family but still a pretty awesome group of badasses' get together after months of neighborly spying. "If Derek did actually listen to Stilinski, I think they'd both be dead. Or trying to violently murder each other at all times." Danny shook his head. "Stiles' body cues are so minute I was sure they didn't exist at all, but they held a conversation about the mayor all with their faces."

Despite himself, Danny was impressed. He'd known Jackson since they were toddlers and still Jackson needed Danny to spell out what was wrong or why he was trying not to laugh hysterically at Coach Finstock and his midlife crisis choices. Stiles had elbowed Derek in the ribs, waggled his eyebrows and glanced at the mayor. Derek inhaled deeply, nodded and grabbed Stiles to pull his face into his neck so the Spark could laugh hysterically without offending the man. Offending him regarding what, Danny wasn't sure but those two would have bonded eventually with their disturbing sense of humor at some point.   
  
"I told you." Scott rolled his eyes. "I am Stiles' best friend. It's my duty to know these things. Heh. Duty."  
  
But back to the current battle of wills being fought via Stiles' scowl and shoulders vs. Derek's eyebrows and helpful fangs. Stiles was sure he was rambling. He could almost hear himself like an out of body experience. "...and that's why I don’t eat peanut butter anymore. I could forgive one but not both. Asking me that is asking too much.”

“I’m going to get our bag.” Derek says. “You are going to be in the car by then.”

“Derek, this is the last episode. I have watched every single episode. You cannot expect me to miss it because our children have a lousy sense of timing, can you?” Stiles pleads. “That’s cruel.”

“Record it.” Derek says over his shoulder. “Get in the car.”

“You know what? No.” Stiles crosses his arms over his chest stubbornly. “Make me.”

“I’m going to get the overnight bag. Then I’m putting you in the car.” Derek says decisively. “You’ve been warned.”

Three and half little Rosalie waved goodbye to her neighbors and sometimes uncles –

“Derek is Laura’s second in command, which means Stiles is too. Kind of.” Danny pointed out the first night Rosalie traumatized Jackson by calling Derek and Stiles her uncles. Jackson predictably blamed Stiles, but Danny had it on good authority to had been Allison and Scott to coach the little girl the last time they babysat.

“It’s _Stilinski_.” Jackson protested. “She should call him Stilinski. Or Goober. Dork. Goofball. Pain in the ass. Bane of Daddy’s existence. Not _Uncle Stiles_.”

“Well, just think about how much you like hearing her call Derek Uncle Deer.” Danny tried again. “Because I don’t think she’s going to stop. She’s just like you.”

“What does that mean?” Jackson asked with narrow eyes.

“That if someone wants her to stop, she’s going to do it until she’s blue in the face. I remember what you did when your coach said you needed to drop a weight class and instead you went up two. Remember that? And Roberts nearly got you to kiss your own ass?” Danny retorted. –

as her Uncle Deer carried her Uncle Stiles like a princess to their car. She giggles in delight when Uncle Stiles waved back.

“We’ll be back soon, Rosie!” Uncle Stiles says cheerfully as Uncle Dear buckles him. “With cousins for you to play with!”

“Daddy!” Rosalie shrieks. “Uncle Stiles is going to have the babies!”

Which incidentally is how Sheriff Stilinski and the Hale immediate family beats Derek and Stiles to the hospital.

*

When asked about birthing classes, Derek’s eyes will go a little hollow and Stiles will mutter darkly about _breathing_. Laura makes the assumption they did not go well when Stiles announces, “I’m here for baby removing surgery. Knock me _out_.”

“What?” Cynthia asks blankly.

“Or as much as you reasonably can without hurting anyone.” Stiles continues blithely. “I’m going to have a scar to go with my appendicitis scar. Isn’t that kind of cool? Oh. Hey everyone. Why is everyone here?”

“We all heard Rosie screaming at the top of her lungs how her uncles were going to have their babies finally.” Laura says drily.

“Ah.” Stiles nods.

“Did someone call Deaton?” Derek asks. “He said he’d be here. He has to be here, in case something happens.”

“Derek,” Cynthia says. “You didn’t say his pregnancy was that high risk.”

“It’s not.” Stiles answers for increasingly nervous Derek. “Sparky just might have issues because of the shock of the outside world, so Deaton thought it’d be a good idea if he was here.”

“A very good idea.” Dr. Shepherd says. “I might have a panic attack if any of my equipment disappears mid-delivery.” He smiles.”Are you ready?”

“Well, since someone won’t let me watch _Teresa_ , _yeees_.” Stiles huffs in Derek’s direction.

*

“I know every parent says this, but I seriously think Sparky and Cub are the cutest babies, ever.” Stiles says critically. “Argent’s face was kind of squished and red. I mean, she’s prettied out but for awhile there I was afraid. And Rosalie didn’t stop screaming bloody murder until she was a year old. I thought her face was going to get stuck that way.”

Derek nods in agreement. He reverently touches the top of Cub’s head. Her purple blanket swaddled tightly around her. “Wow.”

“I have to agree.” Cynthia says. “You boys did good.” She looks into Spark’s face, his blanket green.

“Yeah.” Stiles sighs happily. “We did. Now, I want one. Someone give me one. I don’t even care which. Gimme.”

Smiling fondly at her son, Cynthia handed her son-in-law Sparky. She doubted anything be the exchange for one twin for the other was going to remove Cub from Derek’s arms.

“Oh, wow.” Stiles says, his voice awed. “Hello, Sparky.”

"Are those my grandchildren?" John demands from the door. "Let me see."

"Remember your dignity." Cynthia advises with an amused smile.

"No such thing when your baby has babies." John shakes his head. 

Or maybe it'd just take a determined grandparent to remove Cub from Derek's arms she thinks with a laugh.

*

“Everyone, we want you to meet Dagget who’s going to be the most super awesome Spark, -- seriously, he may have been foreseen by oracles -- and Charlotte the newest Hale alpha.” Stiles beams proudly. “It’s okay to be jealous. The combination of Stilinski and Hale genetics was bound to break the cuteness meter.”

“Dagget?” Jackson says under his breath.

“Suggestion? Don’t.” Scott hisses. “Trust me on this. So not worth it.”

“But Dagget?” Jackson repeats, stuck on the bizarre name.

In hindsight, Jackson will be very glad the commotion of people wanting to see the babies and hold them covered their conversation when a few weeks later, Stiles puts a welcoming sigil on a mouthier, louder and more opinionated woman’s door. The result infestation of cryptids was astounding to the cryptologist called in and special relocation team he was in charge of.

“It’s a family tradition of Stiles’. On his mom’s side.” Scott explains as quietly as he can. “To name your kid something a little…different.”

“But why?” Jackson asks, aghast. “Charlotte is a perfectly good name.”

“I think they think it’s funny.” Scott says after a long moment of thought. “His mom’s name was _Halycyone_.”

Scott and Jackson watch the gathering of friends and family bombard the new family. Scott with a silly grin on his face as Allison and Argent greet the babies. Scott could just imagine the trouble the three of them were going to get into. If they were even half as adventurous as he and Stiles had been, Beacon Hills better watch out. Jackson, still stuck on the name Dagget, watched Stiles help Rosalie hold Charlotte. Danny taking pictures with his phone. His heart melted a little more and he recalled Lydia’s words. Maybe another baby wouldn’t be a horrible idea. Something to think about. He wouldn’t Rosalie to get lonely being an only child after all.

“Think Lydia will be next?” Isaac asks, joining them.

Jackson snorts. “Very unlikely. Lydia has _plans_.”

“I think you and Laura will have kids before Lydia does.” Scott agrees. “If you guys will excuse me, I’m gonna hold my godchildren.”

“If you can pry one from the Sheriff’s arms.” Isaac laughs. “He hasn’t let go of Dagget once.” He looks at Jackson. “And you might have to buy a baby doll to get Rosie to let go of Charlotte.”

“Her name isn’t Rosie.” Jackson glares, restarting a three year feud about his daughter’s name. “It’s _Rosalie_.”

Elsewhere in the room, Lydia and Peter elbow past Scott to greet the newest Hales slash Stilinksis. “They’re kind of adorable.” Lydia decides after studying them. “I don’t think I’d mind babysitting.” Lydia says. “Once in awhile.”

“They’re Hales.” Peter says. “It’s in our genes to be adorable.”

Lydia levels him with a look. “Mr. Hale, you are as adorable as a scorpion.”

“Please, stop.” Derek says, sounding pained. “I hate listening to your foreplay.”

“I think what we should be more worried about is how Lydia wants time with our children to influence them in the art of manipulation.” Stiles says, making the power couple in front of him smile as innocently as their black hearts allowed them to.

“And with Stiles’ intelligence.” Lydia purrs. “My little nephew and niece will be unstoppable.”

“Especially with you to groom them.” Peter agrees.

Derek watches them coo over the twins and feels dread climb up his spine. “That’s not happening.” Derek says pulling Stiles into an embrace to hiss in his ear.

Stiles thumps him in the stomach and whispers back. “Do you think I’m insane? Supervised visits only.”

“You two keep that up,” Nathan sulks from behind Derek. “And you’ll be working on baby three in no time.”

“Don’t hate.” Stiles says automatically but draws back to smile warmly at his wolfy. “We’re going to be awesome at this parent thing.” He says confidently.

“Yeah.” Derek says, watching his family and friends and the two infants that have captivated them. “We are.” 

**Author's Note:**

> If you notice an glaring typos, mistakes or missing words let me know! I've been holding on to this story for weeks and weeks stuck on the last fourth. I'm a little excited to push it out into the world. I'll eventually go back in a fix it up. Sorry about the incredibly long wait! Again...


End file.
